The Pacific Theatre
by cmclean1994
Summary: What happens when a botched ritual sends Harry 60 years into the past? He joins the Marines, of course.
1. Chapter 1

The Pacific Theatre

I don't own Harry Potter or The Pacific.

Chapter 1

December 26th 1943 – Cape Gloucester

I hugged my gun close to me. The M1 Garand. A gas-operated, rotating bolt, semi-automatic rifle, with an effective firing range of 440 yards. Rain streaked down my face, caused by the usual downpour on this God forsaken island. I didn't know what to do. Well, I knew what I had to do, and how to do it. But I couldn't bring myself to make that final charge. Which I strongly believed would bring about my swift and untimely death. I could make out the fear in my comrades eyes also. Each of them wondering, who would die next.

A body landed next to mine, and for a moment, I thought it was another dead. Until, I was grabbed by a rough hand and pulled face to face with Nick Winchester. He was middle aged, with black hair peppered with grey. He had a rough face, and fierce blue eyes that were staring into mine.

"What sort of marine, sits in a hole, bawlin' for his mama, while his fellow troops are bein' hit with Jap artillery? Get your butt outta this fox whole lickety split, and start shooting. Or so help me God, I will make it your final restin' place!"

Not one of us doubted him. There were stories about Winchester. Baseless rumours, really. But we all like a good story. It was said that Winchester was crazy. According to Palmer, in 4th division, he shot a man for being disrespectful to a lady. Addams from 3rd division said he broke a man's leg for bumping into him. We all knew these stories were total rubbish, but Winchester did nothing to dissuade us from telling the new guys.

A few of us are sitting around, drinking and playing poker. In walks Winchester and everyone goes quiet. At this point, none of us new him well, but we'd all been told the stories. We watch like dears caught in a headlight, as he pulls out a smoke and lights up. Taking in a lungful of, the then frowned upon by me, smoke. He pulls over a barrel and sits down. We wait silently for something crazy to happen, like in the stories. Instead, he takes another draw, and says; "Deal me in, kid."

After gaping at him like idiots for a minute, he laughs in our faces. Looking around conspiratorially and leaning closer, he tells us not to believe everything we hear. We're nervous around him, but we eventually loosen up and a fun night is had all around.

His genial smile and southern drawl is nothing like how I'm seeing him now. His face is scrunched up in an angry glare, and his voice is so commanding that I'm compelled by the force of it to do as he says.

"A little birdie told me, that you guys are the old breed now. How 'bout you get up there and show them stinkin' Japs what you can do?"

So that's what we did. Just like on Guadalcanal. We found our resolve, and jumped out of that hole. What followed was the scariest time of my life. Palm trees were bursting with machine gun fire, mortar shells were raining down on both the enemy and us. While running and firing my weapon, I saw someone burn out a tunnel with a flamethrower. In a blink of an eye, his gas pack blew up and fire consumed him and those closest to him. It was shot.

I saw a Japanese soldier pull a pin out of a grenade, and without thinking I shot him, hitting him in the left shoulder. I stood still and watched as blood spurted out behind him, and the live grenade fell at his feet. Seconds later it exploded, killing three and injuring another.

The next couple of minutes were a blur as I attempted to survive for as long as possible. A man once said 'it's a cruel and random world, but the chaos is beautiful'. Right now I had to disagree. It was terrifying, and I had never seen anything as depraved as some of the things that happened, especially once it was over.

I sat with Winch, the only two survivors from that fox hole. The rest had been shot down. I heard a commotion to my left, and we went to check it out. A Marine was holding down a struggling Jap, with his knife stuck in his mouth. "Getting me some Jap gold." He said by way of explanation.

I was speechless. I had never witnessed something as inhumane as to steel a dying mans gold teeth.

"Get the fuck off him Marine!" Winchester shouts as he kicks him of the almost dead man. Two guys from 7th held him back as he tried to hit Nick back.

"Those teeth are mine by right of conquest!" he shouted cockily.

"He ain't dead yet."

As a testimony to Nick's words, the Jap stands up and pulls out a knife of his own. Everyone grabs their guns and starts shouting for him to surrender. Instead, the man looks right at me, blood dripping from his mouth, and sticks the knife right into his own stomach, wrenching it to the other side.

Pain clouds his eyes as he falls to his knees, guts spilling from the large gash of his own making. He falls onto his back dead, knees bent at what would have been an uncomfortable angle if he were still alive.

"Private, clear this shit up!" Nick said to the cocky private.

"Why's it gotta be me?"

"'Cause I said so."

He set to work grumbling.

"And you're still doin' your usual detail also." Nick added.

The next day, we saw the same private bragging to his buddies, and throwing a piece of gold up and down. Well, suffice to say, he wasn't gonna win any more beauty contests. Nick hit him until his face was black and blue. He was court marshalled for it too, and ended up losing rank.

* * *

April 22nd 1994 - Cape Gloucester

We'd been on this God awful island for months now. The Japanese Infantry were probably the sneakiest mother fuckers I knew of, especially when they're trying to hide. But when they make an attempt on your life, they aren't quiet about it. Which was why, he was able to get so close. Instead of the usual charge and mad shouting we were used to, this damn Nip was clever. He snuck up on me after I had just finished relieving myself away from the others. Stupid of me, I know.

I raised my canteen to take a well earned swig of the luke warm water and saw movement behind me, reflected in the shiny surface. I turned quickly to be blinded by the reflection of the sun, in a long curved blade. I fell backwards onto my ass, which thankfully kept me alive for a couple more seconds at least. Especially if the wind and loud swish I heard was anything to go by.

I got that sinking feeling when I realised my gun was a couple of metres away. I was going to die. This random Jap was going to skewer me on his shiny sword.

_Screw this! _I thought. _No way am I gonna let this stinking, although incredibly stealthy, Jap, kill me. _

I rolled to my left quickly, avoiding a downwards thrust, and jumped to my feet. Now I was aware of his presence, he wasn't that bothered with stealth. I was thankful when he screamed and charged me again, because it surely brought the others running.

I drew my United States Marine Raider Stiletto from the sheath on my thigh, and effectively parried his Japanese katana, leaving his right hand side exposed. I raised the stiletto and plunged it to the hilt into the soft tissue of his neck, the thin point sticking out the other side. Ten points to me, wonderful. The limp body fell to the floor, and I pulled out my knife with a squelching sound. The sound of running feet reached my ears as I cleaned of the stiletto.

"What just happened here?" asked a frantic corpsman.

"What does it look like man?" I asked in return, "He tried to kill me, but I wasn't too keen on the idea. So I killed him instead."

"Witty as ever, ain't cha." Nick said in a southern drawl.

I nodded to him in reply.

"What were you even doing out here?" asked Lew "Chuckler" Juergens.

I grinned at him, "Well Chuckler, unlike our buddy Lucky, I go for a piss when I want." I liked Lucky, but now we know he was fine, his 'situation' was hilarious.

"Well do it in your fox hole from now on. And where did this fucker even come from anyway?" asked Captain Haldane, commonly referred to as 'Ack Ack', having heard the end of our conversation.

"No idea Captain. He must've been camping out in the woods. It sure is a big enough place." I replied.

"Yeah well, time to regroup. We're shipping to Pavuvu."

We were finally getting of this shit hole. And we were glad for it.

Before I left, I knelt down next to the Jap I had killed, and noticed he was an Officer of some kind. I searched through his pockets and found his identification. "Well, it certainly is a pleasure to meet you, Miyoshi Gemba. My name is Harry James Potter, Private first class, of the 1st Marine's."


	2. Chapter 2

The Pacific Theatre

I don't own Harry Potter or The Pacific

Chapter 2

Flashback

August 17th 1998 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"Are you sure about this Harry?" Dumbledore anxiously asked.

"Yes. Definitely, it's my only option. I'm tired of this life professor, the staring, and the whispering. The complete devotion they give me. The way they turn on me when they need a scapegoat. I didn't ask for any of it, and I don't want it."

"I understand of course, fame can be a fickle friend after all. But you have to take into consideration, that fate can be a flighty temptress. And rather vengeful if you move against what is meant to be."

"So I'm meant to be miserable. Is that what you want? I'm doing it, and that's final." I wandlessly summoned the decanter of firewhiskey from the drinks cabinet and poured two glasses. Immediately drinking one and topping it up.

"I only want what's best for you." I scoffed in reply. "When are you going to forgive me for placing you with the Dursleys? It was for your own protection. And although there were a few complications, you have grown into a fine young man."

"A few complications? A few?" I asked scandalously, "I was made to sleep in a cupboard for ten years! I was continuously mentally and verbally abused! I was treated as a slave since I could walk!" I took a deep breath and counted to ten. I had matured since the end of fifth year. _I will not destroy anything, I will not destroy anything. _

Dumbledore looked at me with pity, and I looked away into the burning embers of his fire place. I hated pity. "I can see you won't change your mind. Have you told your friends yet? What about that lovely girl you were seeing?"

"I told Ron and Hermione, they're upset, but they understand, I think. And I'm not seeing her anymore. She was nice, but I don't think she'll accept the whole time travel thing, what with being a muggle and all."

Dumbledore chuckled, eyes shining in that weird way of his.

"Before we do this, can you answer a question?"

"Certainly, my boy."

"How do your eyes twinkle like that?"

I was expecting just about anything, but not for him to break into giggles, and then full blown, hysterical, laughter. After he finally calmed down he said, "I haven't laughed like that in years. Well, to answer your question, I suppose I spent too long in my youth staring into the ether."

Yeah, I thought it would be something strange like that.

"Now, my turn I think?" I nodded for him to ask away, "Would you like a lemon drop?"

I sighed; _I definitely won't miss those lemon drops. _

* * *

April 23rd 1994 – Pavuvu

When we finally arrived at Pavuvu, we looked pretty bad. Four months in a stinking jungle, with torrential downpour every other day will do that to you. Did I mention the constant threat from the Japanese imperial Army?

As we walked up the beach and into the camp, we could hear words of welcome, and congratulations being offered. "They do this every time someone gets back in." Nick told me.

We reached the table and saw the most beautiful thing in the world. "Is That…"

"Oh yeah, Phillips. That's some God damned orange juice." I replied.

We must've drunk a whole gallon of the stuff each. Of course, then we noticed the women.

"Hey beautiful." I said to the brunette. She was around 5'8, with long slender legs sticking out of her white skirt, and an ample amount of breast hidden behind her blouse. "What do you say we go behind that rock over there and get a little boulder?"

"Did you really expect that to work, or are you just being a prick for no good reason?" she asked sceptically. "Besides, it's against regulations." she gave me that kinky little smile a man can't help but be turned on by, and this was no exception.

"I thought my chances were decent. And I won't tell if you don't." I winked at her.

By this point, Winch and Sid Phillips were standing about five meters away, waiting for me. "Come on o'er boy; let's get a doc to look at those crabs o' yours." Nick shouted, completely obliterating any chance I had at winning over this pretty woman in front of me.

A few things happened next, Nick grinned brightly, Phillips guffawed, some of the Marines around us laughed, the sexy legged brunette sexily raised one eyebrow, and I hung my head in shame, and muttered; "Fucking cockblock."

"You know, I am a nurse, and although technically off duty, I think I should probably check that out for you." She whispered in my ear. "We can't have our soldiers being ill now, can we?"

No way, "Actually, I'm a Marine."

"Even better. Meet me behind the medical tent at 1700 hours Private, and I'll give you a thorough examination."

I could not believe my luck. The cheesiest pick up line I knew, said only for a joke, actually worked. I am damn good.

I walked past my mentor and Phillips with a smug smile on my face. "What did she say?" asked Phillips, "I saw her whisperin' in your ear."

"A gentleman never tells. And a magician never reveals his secrets." _Especially the one about how I used to be an actual magician. _I thought to myself.

* * *

When it reached 1645 hours, I left our tent in a wonderful mood. Phillips had obviously worked out what was happening and was baffled as to how I did it. Chuckler took it upon himself to explain to him Runner and Hoosier, who happened to be there at the time, what he knew of the birds and the bees. This happened to be, the funniest interpretation of the story I had ever heard. Even Nick was laughing, a not too common occurrence.

I arrived behind the medical tent with five minutes to spare. She got there three minutes late. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

"You Marines aren't the only ones who have needs you know." she replied.

After forty five minutes of mind blowing sex, I came out from behind the medical tent to see five people sitting on crates around a fold out table playing poker. "Oh hey Stryker," Hoosier, who was acting as the dealer, said with faux surprise, "I didn't know you were there, want me to deal you in?" he asked innocently.

"Shit." I muttered. "Er, no thanks, I think I'll pass."

"Oh but we're insistin' you join us kid." Nick told me, as if butter wouldn't melt in his southern riddled mouth. (1)

"Yeah," added Chuckler, "tell us abut your sexploits." Everyone laughed at that causing me to blush behind my well tanned face.

"Take a pew." Runner said, patting an empty crate beside him.

As I took a seat, Hoosier handed me two cards. I lifted up the corners and took a peak at what I had. I glanced up to see them all looking at me expectantly. I was now glad that she had left the other way.

"Sophie Dillinger." I said exasperated.

The five of them cheered loudly. Hoosier pulled out a bottle of whiskey from behind him and Phillips grabbed six shot glasses. I guess we were celebrating.

Half an hour later, we were all drunk. While Winch ranted about how his great great great granddaddy only lost the American civil war because the North cheated, or some such nonsense, the rest of us were toasting to whatever we could think of.

"To the 1st Marine division." shouted Phillips. We all joined him in downing a shot of whiskey.

"To How Company." Runner said. Again, we had a shot of whiskey.

"To Sophie Dillinger." I slurred. We knocked back another shot each.

"Hey, Stryker." Hoosier said.

"What Hoos?" I asked him.

"How come we didn't hear you and Miss Dillinger doing it? Oh wait, I bet she was a moaner. One of those gals who just moan all quiet like. Yeah, I bet that was it." he said with conviction. We all stopped and stared at him, even Nick.

"What the hell is going on here" shouted Gunnery Sergeant Haney.

"To Gunnery Sergeant Elmo "Gunny" Haney!" screamed Phillips, who was quite clearly, a whole lot more drunk than the rest of us. Hoosier started to giggle, before he descended into full blown hysterical laughter. The rest of us joined in seconds later, minus Nick, who I hadn't noticed sneak around the back of the tent. Sneaky southern bastard.

* * *

The next day – Pavuvu

"My head is so sore." Hoosier groaned. I couldn't help but to agree with him. It was 0530 the next morning and we had been woken up with jets of cold water.

"Well maybe you'll think twice before stealing an officer's property, and getting drunk in the base." Gunny said in a stern voice.

"You stole that from an officer?" I asked, half annoyed and half impressed with Hoosier. "Who's was it?" I asked.

"It was mine Private!" Gunny shouted.

"Oh, now this whole thing makes sense. Where did you get whiskey from out here anyway?" I asked genuinely curious.

Gunny looked abashed and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'an army shipment'. I grinned at Hoosier. "But that's beside the point. You boys got completely wasted last night, and that's inexcusable."

"Yes we did." Said Hoosier, a pleased grin on his face. I started laughing. It made my head hurt more. I blamed Hoosier.

* * *

AN: I know the southern riddled mouth bit doesn't make sense, but just go with it, mmkay?


	3. Chapter 3

The Pacific Theatre

I don't own Harry Potter or The Pacific

Chapter 3

May 13th 1994 – Pavuvu

Lucky was finally back. He'd been stuck at some hospital, recovering from nocturnal enuresis. We all felt sorry for him, but we still thought it was funny as hell. Robert "Lucky" Leckie, was a damn good machine gunner. A shame he was moved to an intelligence officer. He went drinking all night, when his Greek girlfriend ended it with him. He fitted in well with the rest of us in How company. He wrote a lot, letters to some girl back home in Philadelphia. We get him to read them to us sometimes. I don't think he'll ever send them, but he's pretty hung up on her. Minus the whole Greek lady friend.

"You know this guy?" Runner asked as Lucky entered the tent.

"Was it Gloucester maybe, Gloucester?" "He looks familiar." "He looks like a land crab that wants to crawl up my pee hole." Said Hoosier, to a few laughs.

"Fuck you, fuck you all."

"Hey, welcome home cobber." Runner told him, while Chuckler fetched him a glass of water.

"Have a good vacation?" Chuckler asked.

"Anything to get away from you bastards." He replied with a grin.

"Hey, what you got there?" I asked as he pulled out some books and a few comics.

"Pens. Tell Santa if you've been naughty or nice."

"Naughty, the naughtiest" said Runner.

Chuckler chuckled, "Its June."

"It's the Pacific." Lucky replied, "Christmas comes in June."

"Hoosier, cause he's always saying his prayers, and making his bed."

"Aww, would you look at that."

"Chuckler, Stryker, a bit of heavier reading. Pictures." he handed a Superman comic to Chuckler, and a Mickey Mouse one to me.

"Something for your stocking." he said as he passed a book to Runner.

"Ah, I read this already."

"So where's Phillips?"

"I saw him wrestling with some new kid." I supplied with a shrug.

"Was it some kind of Southern mating ritual." Chuckler asked with faux awe. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey, watch your mouth kid. Another war between the states ain't out of the question." Said Nick in his heavy southern accent as he walked into the tent.

"Nicky boy!" said Lucky enthusiastically, "We all know it's just talk with you. Aren't you happy I'm back?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm glad your back, I've been hankerin' for a civilised talk. I like to kill myself it were that depressin'".

I shook my head at Nick's dramatics. "I'll get Sidney up here." I told them, putting away my new comic before going in search of our wayward friend.

* * *

After ten minutes of searching all over the camp, I finally found Phillips with the kid he was rolling in the dirt with on the beach. The kid was tall and skinny, pale skin with red hair that reminded me of Ron.

As I got closer, I heard him ask Phillips what it was like. Sid looked at him and sighed. "I slept with a woman in Melbourne. I'm not braggin'. But that's at one end right. And then way down there," he pointed to his left. "as far as you can go. And that's what it's like. And that, that you can never imagine."

"Okay. . . I'm gonna miss you Sid."

"You'll be alright."

"Ain't that the truth." they both turned to look at me. "A friend of Sidney's is a friend if How's."

"Stryker, this is my buddy Gene, from Mobile, Alabama. Gene, This is Harry Potter, or Stryker as we like to call 'im."

"Eugene Sledge, 2nd mortar squad, King company."

"A pleasure. Welcome to Pavuvu, general shit hole, but its home for now. Well, im sure you've already been told. Phillips, Lucky's back. I think he's got something for you in the tent."

"You ain't havin' a larkin' are you?"

"Course not; I got me a Mickey Mouse comic." I said, pleased with this fact. "Oh, and I don't think he knows your leaving yet." Phillips had been one of the lucky few whose name had been pulled out of a hat, and was being shipped home early. We were happy for him, but would still miss him.

"I'll go have a few words with him. See you later Gene, Stryker." he walked in the direction of the tents, with his hands in his pockets.

"Why do they call you Stryker?" Gene asked.

"I asked them the same thing. And they said they saw the stuff I did on Canal. And it suited me and my actions." I shrugged at him. "I'm not proud of the stuff we done there, or at Gloucester. Not one of us were. The thing with war is, it's necessary. You just have to try and keep your humanity. It's the best thing a marine can do."

"Weren't you scared?"

"Damn skippy I was scared. Anyone who says they weren't is either a liar, or stupid."

We walked back to base; me whistling an unnamed tune, Eugene with a contemplative look on his face.

* * *

August 19th 1998 – Hogwarts; the Room of Requirement

We stood in the middle of the large room with stone walls, floor, and ceiling. The stone was covered in markings in a thick red substance which was easily recognisable as blood.

A ritual chamber. Dumbledore reckoned there weren't any still intact, which was why we had to do the ritual here. I stood in the middle of a circle, which was surrounded by a star. Four points of the star had a different object placed inside another circle. With Dumbledore in the final one that I was facing.

I nodded to him sadly, and he began to chant in a dead language, known only to him and myself due to a spell he put on me. When he had repeated himself five times, I joined in for another five rounds. By this time, the pressure in the room had multiplied and the magic was tangible in the air.

For the final stage in the ritual, I had to tattoo an ancient Macedonian rune on my right shoulder. Once this was done, I fell to my knees in pain as the ritual did what it was designed to do.

My body was torn apart piece by piece, and sent back into the time stream. It was the single most painful thing I had ever experienced. Even dying was better than this, and that's what I longed for after what seemed like an eternity of pain.

* * *

Date unknown – Somewhere in northern Scotland

I was finally reassembled and spat back out at the other end. I counted to ten before opening my eyes. I was in the middle of a field, wearing the same clothes as before, and the shrunken trunk was still tied around my neck.

I pulled out my wand to apparate, only to find out I was unable to. _That's strange _I thought. I had been able to apparate since Hermione, Ron and I went searching for the horcrux's. And that was over a year ago. I tried to use a point me spell, but it wouldn't work. I couldn't even feel my magic. _I can't feel my magic. I can't sense any magic at all. _I was beginning to get worried now. I decided to use my emergency portkey to Hogwarts. In my eyes, it was an emergency. Dumbledore should be able to figure it out.

"Activate." I felt the usual pull at the naval, and my fears were lessoned a fraction.

What I saw when I arrived shocked me to my core. Hogwarts was gone! Nothing was left, only a broken shell. My only true home was a ruin.

Had I accidentally travelled into the future? Had a new Dark Lord risen and destroyed everything I hold dear?

I saw an old man in wizards robes walking by, "Excuse me sir, what happened to the castle." I asked frantically.

"I don't know what you mean young man. The castle is as magnificent as always." he told me. Seeing my confused look he grew anxious. "Oh dear, you're not a muggle are you?" he asked.

"What?" I asked, genuinely surprised. "No, of course I'm not. I'm a wizard, like you."

"Oh thank Merlin." he said, "I thought I broke the statute of secrecy for a moment there." he waved goodbye and continued walking past, not helping me in the least.

I walked up to the rusty, wrought iron gate, with a heavy chain wrapped around them. Although it wasn't padlocked, there were many signs depicting danger, and gruesome death to those that entered. What the old man said just didn't make sense. I pushed open the gate, the chaining clanging to the ground, and stepped through onto the grounds of Hogwarts.

When I reached around half way up the path, the scenery changed to that I was familiar with. The luscious green grass and the sparkling blue lake returned, and I grinned.

When I got to the main doors, I noticed one of them was ajar. I pushed it open and walked in. Everything was unusually quit and empty to be school time, so it must be the summer holidays, but what year? The notes on the ritual weren't specific on the matter, just saying it would transport the participant back a decade or so.

I made my way up the many staircases and took all the shortcuts I knew to get to the Headmasters office in record time. When I reached the gargoyle guarding the entrance, I realised I didn't know he password, so started to guess random sweets. "Lemon drops, chocolate frogs, fizzing whizbees, blood pops, bertie bott's eve-"

The gargoyle leapt to the side and I came face to face with an old man I didn't recognise. "Can I help you young man?"

"Um, yes please, I'm looking for Professor Dumbledore?"

"Well, he'll be in his office I assume, it's located in the Transfiguration corridor, would you like assistance finding it?" he asked kindly.

_Okay, something is really not right here. _I thought. I realised he was waiting for a reply."Oh, no thanks. I'll manage thanks." I turned around and started walking in the direction of the transfiguration classroom. When I got there I knocked on the door, and heard Dumbledore's familiar voice telling me to enter.

I opened the door and walked up to his desk. I studied his face and noticed he looked a lot younger behind his beard.

"I'm afraid I do not have time to take on any apprentices at the moment, if that is your business here today?" he said, motioning for me to take a seat, silently offering me a cup of tea.

I took a seat and refused the tea. "I have something for you to see, do you have a pensieve?" I asked.

"As a matter of fact I do." I used the built in function on my trunk to enlarge it, taking out a vial of blue white liquid and handed it to him. He studied me curiously, before emptying it into the stone bowl and slowly lowering his head towards it. It was Dumbledore's message to himself; I didn't know what it contained, as he wished to do it privately.

When he emerged from the stone basin he looked at me sadly. "Harry. . ." he sighed. "Do you know what year it is?" I shook my head. "It is currently August the 19th 1938."

_1938! 60 years! I went back in time 60 years? _"But it was only supposed to send me back a decade!" I had so many questions; why did I go back so far? How were the calculations so far off? Why can't I work my magic here? What am I going to do now?

I voiced my questions out loud and Dumbledore looked confused, "What do you mean, your magic isn't working here?" he asked.

I explained the problem to him, and told him about the image I had of the castle as an after note.

"The muggle-repelling wards!" he exclaimed in surprise. I felt my heart sink. Was I a muggle now?

After a couple of minutes of silence, he finally spoke again. "I think I know what happened, well, a theory in any case. I believe that because of the instability of the ritual you used, it fed off of your magic, and ended up too powerful, sending you 50 years further into the past than planned. I'm afraid there's nothing that can be done to save your magic if this is the case."

I was devastated. My magic had been a part of me since I was born, it was who I am. To have it viciously ripped from me now was like I had lost one of my senses, like I had gone blind.

It was decided that I couldn't stay in Britain, so Dumbledore used his already large influence with the ICW to make me an American citizen. And by the 25th of August, I was on a plane heading towards the United States of America.

My citizen contract stated that I would have all the privileges that other US citizens had. However, I would also be punished to the full extent of the law, like any other citizen. What caught my eye though, was the final clause in the paperwork. I had the right to enlist in any branch of the American armed forces.


	4. Chapter 4

The Pacific Theatre

I don't own Harry Potter or The Pacific

Chapter 4

August 19th 1994 – Pavuvu

I had been in the past for six years now, recently celebrating my 24th birthday with extra chow, and raucous singing in the dining tent. While we were on this island, we didn't have much to do but train and stay fit. A lot of us would swim in the sea, after a run on the beach. But I decided to start boxing as an extra way to keep on my toes.

A crude boxing ring had been set up in the middle of the base, and that's where I was to be found most days. A crate of skipping ropes was close by, as well a few pairs of boxing gloves. It wasn't much in the way of a gym, but what did you expect out here? Air conditioning?

Johnson was a boxer before enlisting with the Marines. And I spent this time with him, testing myself against his skill constantly. When we got bored of the usual sparring, he would set up matches with some of the others who had started to box. One of these was with a guy from King Company, in Gene's mortar squad.

"You know why they call me Snafu?" he asked as we were squaring up.

"No, why do they call you Snafu?" I asked in return.

"Cause that's what I am, a snafu waitin' to happen."

"Well, you know why they call me Stryker?"

"No, I do not." he said.

"Because I strike hard and fast, and leave the enemy on the ground, blood pouring down there face, wondering what the fuck just happened."

He gave me a carefree grin. And the bell rang.

I decided I was gonna go easy on the guy, who was the same age as me, only shorter. That was until he started to taunt me. "Well then Stryker, what happened to fast and hard?" he asked midway through the third round.

I grinned at him, before going full out. Within seconds I had hit him with three jabs and a solid haymaker to his left temple. Suffice to say, he dropped like a sack of potatoes. Blood was pouring from his nose which I had broken with the third jab, and he stared into the sky with glazed over eyes. The Marines watching started to chant; "Stryker, Stryker, Stryker!"

I pulled off my gloves and squatted down beside him. "There you have it," I said "fast and hard, just like I promised."

We got on pretty well after that, having a friendly chat from time to time. By then, the rumours about my exploits with a certain sexy nurse had travelled throughout the base, which added to my reputation on the battlefield made me a well liked guy. They thought I was fearless. Nick and I being the only survivors from the fox hole in Gloucester, no one else knew I was just as scared as the next man.

* * *

August 29th 1994 – Pavuvu

We were becoming restless. We had been stuck on this island for a couple of months now, and we were bored. A whole lot of bored Marines with nothing to do are a recipe for disaster. Me and the guys in How were doing okay, but we had heard, and seen, a lot of fights breaking out between friends.

I heard from Nick that the higher ups were planning an assault on some airfield. Apparently, it was of high tactical value in the war effort. We found out for sure on the 29th of August. Peleliu, Palau Islands.

Major General William Rupertus, the Commander of 1st marine division, predicted the island would be ours in four days. So we prepared for combat, which was to take place on the 15th of September.

We were given plenty of ammo, and new trousers and jackets were given to those of us who needed them.

We were picked up by the Navy on the 4th September, and set sail for Palau islands.

* * *

August 28th 1938 – New York

"So why do you want to join the Marines?" the recruitment officer asked me.

I was sitting in a hard backed chair, in the USMC recruitment office, New York. An electric powered fan sat on his desk, feebly trying to circulate the sweltering hot air.

"Well sir, I'm not a stranger to fighting, or war for that matter. I guess I just don't think I can go back to being a civilian. A played a part in the conflict back in England you see."

"Right, of course you did." He said sceptically. He obviously thought I was making it up, as far as he knew, I was talking about the muggle war. And I'd only just turned eighteen. And besides, the war wasn't all that hot for the muggles yet.

"Well, your papers seem to be in order. We'll get you to basic training in two weeks. Go spend time with your mom, kid. You won't see her for a while."

We shook hands and I left, after getting the details of where I was to be picked up. I looked into the clear blue sky, and loosened the tie around my neck. I hailed a yellow cab, and thought of the things I could do in New York for two weeks as I was driven to the hotel I was staying at.

Those two weeks were the most fun I had had in my entire life. Because I was now of age, I hit the bars and clubs almost every night, including the night that I lost my virginity.

I was sitting alone on a bar stool in a small pub on main street, when the barmaid caught my eye. She had just started her shift and I watched her serving some people with easy familiarity. She was wearing a pair of tight blue jeans and a low cut top. She looked around twenty years old.

"You know," I said, getting her attention. "A girl as beautiful as you should be wearing a tight black dress, or nothing at all." she raised an eyebrow at me. "I happen to have nothing at all in my hotel room." I said winking at her.

It progressed from there, and when her shift ended, we went back to her apartment and Bob's your uncle. After breakfast the next morning, we had sex again and I left. Simple as that.

September 15th 1994 – Just off the coast of Peleliu

I was standing with Nick on the main deck of the ship. We were kitted out and ready to go, waiting for the signal to start filling the LVT's. We could see our destination in the early morning light.

"Here." He said handing me a knife in a sheath. The handle was elegantly carved out of bone, with the sheath made of some kind of animal hide.

"What's this?" I asked. I knew what it was of course. I was just confused as to why he was giving it to me.

"Well, it's an Arkansas toothpick ain't it." He told me.

"But why are you giving it to me?" I asked, a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"I ain't got no family kid. And I reckon I've outstayed my welcome on this world. So I want you to take it for me. You'd be doin' me a service anyhow."

I was confused as to why he was talking like this. So I voiced my confusion.

"Well kid, I can jus' feel it in my bones. The sheath's made from deer hide; handle from its thigh bone. Snagged it myself when I was your age, when I decided t' stop piddlin' around for the rest o' my life." I could hear the emotion in his voice.

"You really think you're gonna die today, don't you." I said, more than asked.

"Really and truly kid." I couldn't say anything else, as the siren to start boarding the LVT's sounded. We headed down to them and met up with the rest of How Company. We boarded one together, with Lucky and Hoosier manning the machine guns at the front.

I stared at Nick, still shocked from what he said, and his gift. He smiled at me and squeezed my shoulder. The ramp lowered, and the LVT started rolling forwards into the water, causing a wave to splash over us. When we were in range, Lucky and Hoosier opened fire on the beach, trying to whittle down the enemy's number as much as possible. I looked to my left and saw someone in another LVT stick his head over the side to get a better look at the beach. His body fell backwards as a bullet tore through his head, spattering the side of the landing vehicle with blood and brain matter.

When we hit the beach, we climbed over the side of the LVT immediately seeking cover. As we made our way slowly up the beach, all around us people were dying. We were bombarded by 47mm guns and 20mm autocannon's. Mortar shells and machine gun fire rained down on us like the torrential rain at Gloucester, only a bit more life threatening. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Hoosier was caught in a mortar blast and hoped he was okay. I saw a corpsman start attending to him and took refuge in the fact that he wasn't dead yet.

The rest of us made it into a trench and stayed in cover there. "Where's Hoosier?" Chuckler asked, scared for our friend.

"He took a mortar round. A corpsman was seeing to him, I don't think he's dead." we put him to the back of our mind as we had to focus in order to stay alive.

We joined up with the 5th Marines who seemed to be making the most progress, as luckily, they were a fair distance from the heavy gun emplacements on the right and left flank. We worked up our courage and pushed forward towards the airfield, a lot of us shouting encouragement in the form of our motto "Get some!"

The problem with this was that we met the Jap's first counterattack, in the form of an armoured tank Company. Mortars started dropping shells on the advancing tanks and infantry and there positions were called in. They were soon being bombarded with everything we had; tanks, howitzers, naval guns and dive bombers, while we picked of as many as we could with our rifles. They didn't last long.

As we celebrated our small victory, I noticed Nick was missing. I went searching for him. As it grew dark and I heard the call for us to dig in, I finally found him.

He was lying face up, staring blankly into the sky. "Oh shit." I said to myself as I noticed the hole, right above his heart, and his blood soaked top. I studied his face and noticed an almost peaceful expression. He knew he was going to die, and accepted it. I closed his eyes as I mourned my friend's death.

I had been kneeling with his body for ten minutes before I was interrupted. "Come on Stryker, you don't want what happened at Gloucester to happen again do you." Chuckler said to me before he noticed the body, "Oh shit. Is that Winch?" he asked.

I nodded in reply. "Come on." he said, "we better dig in." I nodded again as he covered the body in a blanket. I stood up and said goodbye to my friend one last time before heading back.

At the end of D-day, we had suffered 1,100 casualties, with around 200 dead, and 900 wounded. Nick "Winch" Winchester and Bill "Hoosier" Smith amongst them.

* * *

AN: The pick up line used on the barmaid was one i read from an amazing story, the name of i can't remember. If anybody has read it leave a review so i can properly credit, thanks, KS.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

September 16th 1994 – Peleliu

I rose with the early morning sun. Once the others woke, they watched me holding Nick's knife. I was familiar with knife fighting, as I had learnt it along with sword fighting for the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It was a precautionary measure, in case I lost both of my wands. Unlikely, but you could never be too careful.

Today was the day that we would attempt to capture the airfield and push toward the eastern shore. It was extremely hot, and we were all dehydrated. The water supply we had was drunk yesterday, and we were struggling to scrounge more of anyone we came across in our search for the elusive water. The stress of losing Nick and not knowing the status of Hoosier wasn't helping. Lucky resorted to searching dead bodies for their canteens, hoping they hadn't gotten around to drinking them, while Runner, Chuckler and I watched in silence. The stress of he situation was added to by the fact that we still didn't know the status of Hoosier.

We came across the covered body of Nick, and we all looked at each other. I nodded slowly. So did the others. It was decided, if Nick's water canteen had any water in it, we would take it. Thankfully, it was still two thirds full, and we shared it between us. I saw it as Nick helping us from beyond the grave, I'm sure he wouldn't mind.

Temporarily satiated, we headed to the command area to find out our orders. We would take the airfield and head to the eastern shore with 5th Marines, leaving the 7th Marines to finish off the island's southern defenders.

On the way back to the front lines, we heard a commotion about a huge supply of water. We followed the Marine and found a well filled with water. As we got closer, we saw someone pull out a dead goat. "Fucking Japs poisoned it." he shouted. The rest of them deflated. By now, our orders had spread, and everyone new we were going to be making another charge.

"Hey Sledge, Snafu." I said as I saw them close by "Glad to see you both made it.

"Don't reckon I can say the same about you Potter." Snafu replied, his grin taking any malice out of the words.

"Know any who died?" Sledge asked me.

"Winch didn't make it." I said, a crestfallen look on my face. "He told me before we landed, he knew he was gonna die yesterday. I didn't believe him. I thought he would make it to the end for sure."

"Old man like him, there destined to die in battle. No offence meant of course, it's just the way the world works." Lucky said.

"Gunny hasn't died yet." Chuckler voiced what we were all thinking.

"And let's hope he never does." I said. "God knows we need people like him today."

We said goodbye to the boys from King and went back to our fox holes, waiting anxiously until it was time to go. When given the signal to go, the nervousness was replaced by steel. This was no time to be nervous. We made a mad dash through the airfield, coming under heavy artillery fire from the north.

As I was running, I couldn't believe how many people were dying around me. A lot of people were slowing down due to the intense 115f heat which only gained them death. I found temporary cover behind a blown up tank and caught my breath. I couldn't tell you how far I had ran, but it felt like a marathon.

I watched as Lucky and Runner were running towards me, supporting each other when Runner took a round to his right arm. I winced even as he shrugged it off like it was nothing. Lucky sat him down beside me and started shouting for a corpsman.

"Shit Runner," I said as I put pressure on his wound, "you took one in the arm."

Captain Haldane spoke to Lucky; "There are no corpsmen here Leckie, and the radio bearer got hit halfway back there." He said pointing to our starting position. "You're gonna have to run back and give a radio operator their position, and bring a corpsman back here." He listed of some coordinates, and Lucky turned to leave.

Before he did leave, he turned to me; "Stay with him Stryker, you stay with him." and he was off. I watched his back as he retreated, thankful he wasn't hit as far as I could see.

"It's okay Runner. Me and Ack Ack here will patch you up best we can before a doctor gets here." I slapped him to keep him awake as Haldane tied a bandage around his arm. "I'm sure Lucky will be right back." I told him.

The problem was, Lucky wasn't right back. He wasn't back when I had ran out of ammo from shooting at the enemy's stronghold. And he wasn't back when it was hit with an air strike. Although that definitely meant he had made it to a communication base. What was even more worrying, was that he wasn't back when we were no longer being fired upon, and stretcher bearers had taken Runner back to the beach. I shared my fears with Chuckler when I met up with him at the dilapidated building the Japs were hiding out in until it was cleared.

"I'm sure he's fine, wounded at the worst." he told me. "You know Lucky, ain't no way he'd die out here. Especially cause he hasn't won Vera's heart yet."

His joke did it's job in raising my spirits. Which, I was thankful for.

With just a short break, we headed out to the eastern end of the island. Only to find, that the Japs certainly didn't want to hand it over to us. So we were held down with fire fights throughout our purge on this area of the island. What made it worse, was that more and more of our men were dropping from heat stroke.

* * *

September 28th 1944 – Just north of Peleliu

Once we had finally cleared the eastern end, me and Chuckler stayed with the 5th Marines to help out in capturing Ngesebus Island, a small island just north of Peleliu. It was occupied by many Japanese artillery positions, and was the sight of an airfield still under construction. There was a causeway connecting the tiny island to Peleliu, but it was decided by Harris, my new commanding officer, to make a shore-to-shore amphibious landing which the Japs hopefully wouldn't expect.

Harris had organised a pre-landing bombing of the island which turned out to be much more successful than the one meant for Peleliu. The majority of the Japanese defenders were neutralised.

As we advanced through the small island, we faced little opposition from the Japanese hidden in tunnels and caves, but they caused only minor problems.

One of these problems was a bit more personal to me. We had just cleared a cave, and were heading out with me bringing up the rear. I thought I saw some movement, so I froze. The problem being, the rest of the raiders had already left the cave. A Japanese soldier ran at me from an off-shoot that wasn't noticed before. I threw my hand out on instinct and I was shocked to the core when the Jap was blasted back with a smkey black and blood red bolt of energy.

_What the fuck! _I thought. It was impossible. The Dumbledore from this timeline had tested me thoroughly. I had less magical ability than a squib. And here I was performing magic. I never realised, that the moment I performed this magic coincided perfectly with the eleventh birthday of Charlus Daniel Potter. My Grandfather.

The next day, Chuckler was hit by a mortar round, losing a chunk of flesh close to his crotch. I watched as the last of my friends from How was worked on by two corpsman, before being taken away on a stretcher.

As we were heading back into the airfield, we were passed by more Marines. I spotted Sledge, Snafu and Bill Leyden and heard Snafu calling Sledge "Sledgehammer". I smiled grimly at the newly christened Marine, realising this was his first taste of combat. They stopped at Chuckler's stretcher and Sledgehammer asked how he was. "Mortar round." I told him. "He'll be alright. Where are you guys heading?" I asked.

"Heading up to the Point." Snafu told me. "Wanna come with?" he asked.

"I think I'll pass, need to have a break some time don't I. You guys live though, yeah?"

"We'll try our best." Gene told me.

"Yeah, I'll see you later Sledgehammer." I grinned at him.

October 3rd 1994 – Pavuvu

Here I was, back at Pavuvu. Once we had captured Ngesebus Island with only fifteen killed, and thirty three wounded, Rupertus decided that I was to be sent back here. I had wanted to continue fighting, at Bloody Nose Ridge, and the Umurbrogal ridges with the rest of 5th, but I was refused. I was furious. I had joined the Marines to fight, and instead, I was sent back to base. The worst thing about it was, I was being made to see a councillor that specialised in traumatised veterans.

I was at the side of the boxing ring, using one of the skipping ropes when a familiar face walked up to me.

"Well, if it isn't Sophie Dillinger." I said.

"Private Potter." she said formally. "I am here to escort you to the medical bay, where you will be having your first session with your councillor."

I noticed she seemed a bit cold towards me. "Why so frosty?" I asked, "I wasn't that bad was I?"

"I heard about your little celebratory party, after we had our 'session', everyone did. I didn't take you for an arrogant, cocky, arsehole Private." she said scornfully.

"No, you don't understand." I said, trying to salvage. "That wasn't my idea, they knew I was meeting you, and they followed me, I had no idea, I swear."

She huffed and turned around, storming in the direction of the medical. I shrugged and followed after her. I silently chuckled to myself. It was hard to storm away when you were going in the same direction as the target of your anger.

When we reached the door, she nodded to me and stormed away for real this time. I stood facing the door, wondering what kind of doctor crap this guy would pull on me. I'd had the treatment before, just after I killed Voldemort.

* * *

July 21st 1997 – The Ministry of Magic

I sat in a leather armchair, refusing to lie on the coach like in the movies.

"So Mr. Potter, what would you like to talk about today." the mind healer asked me. He was a tall slender man, with high aristocratic cheekbones and long fingers curled around a clipboard.

"Isn't that for you to decide." I asked. No way was I being cooperative. I don't need this shit.

"Of course not. We're not here for me, we're here for you." he said.

"What bullshit textbook did you get that one from then?" I asked with false curiosity, as i looked around his office in interest.

"Now Now Mr. Potter. That sort of profanity isn't welcome in my office. It's highly disrespectful and I find it can be counter productive." he said.

"If you want my respect, then you'll have to earn it. What did you do in the fight against Voldemort? Nothing." at this point, I was more interested in the decor.

"Does it make you angry that a lot of people didn't fight him? Not everyone is a fighter you know. And not everyone can be as headstrong as you Mr. Potter." this grabbed my attention.

"It does actually, yeah. And cut the Mr. Potter crap okay, it makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Let's talk about this lack of comfort with titles, shall we? Do you think you don't deserve a respectful title, that you haven't earned one? Or maybe its something deeper than that? Something in your subconscious mind perhaps? What do you think?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. Screw this shit." I stood up and began to walk out of the room.

He called after me; "I'm afraid that's all we have time for today Mr. Potter. I'll see you next week."

* * *

October 3rd 1944 – Pavuvu

I stood facing the door to the medical bay, smiling at the memory. Stupid quacks.

I turned around and went back to my bunk. I quickly put a few ration packs, a box of matches, a medical kit, a rope and three canteens full of water into a rucksack. I strapped Winch's knife to my thigh with spare boot laces, and grabbed my stiletto, just in case. With a few more essentials, I ran out into the forest surrounding the base.

No way would I sit there listening to some doctor tell me how I'm feeling. Maybe I was still a bit annoyed at not being able to fight, I don't know. None of that matters anymore. I was going AWOL.


	6. Chapter 6

The Pacific Theatre

I don't own Harry Potter or The Pacific.

Chapter 6

October 7th 1944 – Pavuvu

It had been four days since I ran into the jungle, and they still hadn't found me. I was currently sitting on a high tree branch, watching the five Marines searching for me below. They would never find me. I suffered through three months of survival training with Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody, plus basic training.

The last four days had gone pretty much how I expected them to. On the first day, I had run about a mile into the jungle, and decided to set up camp for the night. I placed crudely made alarm systems around me, ensuring I would know if they found me. I used vines from my surroundings as trip wires. When set off, it would cause a piece of bark with a hole cut in it to spin down a stick I had whittled to have ridges, causing a noise that would wake me once asleep. The alarm didn't go off, and I slept peacefully.

The next three days went pretty much the same, with nothing extraordinary happening other than avoiding patrols. I had attempted to recreate my feat of magic, to try and control it somehow, but had gotten nowhere. I had eaten a ration pack a day and realised my mistake. I didn't have any left.

Instead of turning myself in, I decided I would hunt for food. Once the patrol was out of sight, I scrambled down my tree and went in the opposite direction. I untied Winch's knife and held it in my hand. Up until now, I hadn't unsheathed it once.

Wrapping my fingers around he bone handle reverently, I slowly drew the knife away from the sheath. Staring at the beautiful blade reflecting the sunlight, I only just noticed the piece of paper flutter to the ground. Frowning, I bent down and picked up.

_Though I look like a knife, I am something much more;_

_If you want my secrets, blood will unlock the door._

_Be very wary of what you chose;_

_There is a high chance that you will lose._

A poem? I was incredibly confused at this point. Nick didn't seem the type to like poetry. And what was it even doing in the sheath in the first place. I read the poem again, and saw it was describing the knife. It has secrets? How can a knife have secrets?

I looked at the knife intently, and saw faint lines etched into the metal. Tilting it in the light, I saw clearly five runes on the side of the blade. My heart started beating faster. _Blood will unlock the door. _I was about to cut into my hand to see what happened when I remembered the final line of the poem. _There is a high chance that you will lose._

_What the hell does that mean? _I thought to myself. I heard a faint whispering, and crouched down. The voice sounded female. I strained my ears to try and hear it again; when I noticed it was coming from the knife. Was it magical? Was Nick a Wizard? Did he know who I was? Is that why he gave me the knife? While all these questions were swirling around my head, the voice continued to call out to me, getting louder and louder, and the louder it got, he harder it was to ignore.

I was scared. I felt the knife compelling me to draw my own blood. My hand was moving closer to the sharp edge, and I couldn't stop it. I tried to drop the knife, to throw it away, but my fingers would not loosen. Before I could scream in frustration, my hand met the blade, and slid down the edge. Blood began dripping from the shallow cut, and I watched in fascination as it filled the tiny chasms that were the runes.

Once the final one was complete, I stumbled backwards from the bright flash given off by the blade. The tattoo on my shoulder started to heat up, and the pain became unimaginable. The paper the poem was written on burned to ashes, which were swept away on a nonexistent wind. The knife was now steadily throbbing with light, and when it flashed brightly again, I passed out from the immense pain centred on my shoulder.

* * *

Date unknown – Place unknown

I sat up and blinked away the dizziness I was feeling. Standing up, I looked around me and my jaw dropped. I was standing in a courtyard of a large manor. The once grand building was I ruin. The walls were crumbling, and all of the windows were smashed. The flowers and plants in the garden had died and wilted away, and the water feature in the courtyard. What was surprising was that I recognised this place. It was my mind.

Orbs of light floated around and I reached out towards the one closest to me. It was me sparring with Johnson. Another showed me shooting at some Japs who were caught out of cover. Looking at a few more, I realised they were my memories since I had come back in time. Unable to visit my mindscape without magic, they had just floated around, unsorted.

I remember coming here when I still had my magic. It was Potter Manor. When I started learning occlumency, I went to the Goblins to get a magical blueprint, which was basically a holographic picture. There were ten bedrooms, twelve bathrooms, three offices, two lounges, one reception room, a large library, a kitchen and servant quarters. Outside, there was thirteen acres of land, horse stables, magical creature stables (including Griffins and Thestrals) and a full size quidditch pitch.

I had no idea what I was doing here or how I got here for that matter. I began to look around, starting with the grounds. I walked down to the quidditch pitch to find it in the same state of ruin. The goal posts had fallen over, the once green grass was brown and dead, and the stands had all collapsed.

When I reached the stables, wasn't surprised to find the skeletons of the animals, some of them still with bits of flesh clinging to the bone. I came to the conclusion that without my magic, nothing here could be sustained.

I pushed open the front door of the manor, and it fell off its hinges, hitting the marble floor with a loud thud. It looked like there had been a huge fight, with a lot of collateral damage. I thought it could have been me fighting to keep my magic.

I made my way through the large house, and saw disrepair everywhere. I could feel something from the centre of the manor. Something similar to the knife calling out to me. I still couldn't fathom how this had happened. I was so confused.

I reached the doors to the library of memories and could see the accumulative glow of the memories of the first eighteen years of my life shining from under the door. This was definitely where I was feeling this strange attraction.

I pushed the door open and was glad to see its hinges were working perfectly. Cautiously poking my head round the door, I groaned as I saw all the memories floating around. They had floated of the shelves I put them on without my magic to hold them in place.

I noticed some of the orbs were escaping from the open door and hastily shut it after I walked in. I kept a wide berth of any darker looking orbs as I traversed the room, knowing they held some of my darker memories.

I reached the heart of the room, where a couple of comfy looking chairs and sofas, and a table were situated. On top of the table sat the source of the mysterious voice. There was a glass case with a smoky black and red substance, reminiscent of my peculiar feat of magic, swirling around inside.

I could feel the same compulsion that was on the knife telling me to unlatch this glass cube and set the power within free. _This could help me. _I thought. _There is a high chance that you will lose. _The last line of the poem came to the forefront of my mind, unbidden. But what if this was the key to getting back my magic? Could I walk away from this if that was the case? Could I turn my back on magic forever?

I walked up to the table and reached towards a key sitting next to the case. Pushing it into the lock, I slowly turned it until I heard a resounding click. I cautiously opened the lid a fraction. The swirling mass didn't react, so I opened it fully and took a step back, not taking my eyes of this strange substance. I jumped back as it rose quickly out of the case, stopping in front of my chest.

I felt a questioning presence probing at my core, and hesitated. It seemed to be asking my permission. I tried to feel more accepting, and the cloud pulsed strongly before plunging into my chest. I gasped, struggling to breathe. Falling backwards, I scratched at my chest, trying to get the cloud out. The pain was immense; I was digging my nails into my skin, ripping it apart in a futile effort to stop the pain.

After what felt like an eternity, the pain was reduced to a dull throb, and my self inflicted wounds healed over. My frantic breathing returned to normal and I lay my head on the floor, glad it was over.

"Thank you Harry Potter."

I reeled in surprise, looking around I saw a humanoid figure kneeling on the ground. "Who the fuck are you?" I asked, surprised that this thing was in my mindscape.

"I am Hecate. And I thank you for freeing me. My magic is yours to command master." This rendered me speechless. The best I could manage was; "Huh?"

"For setting me free, I shall lend you the use of my magic for a single century. However, if you die, all deals shall be rendered void, and I will be free to do as I please." I gaped at her. "There is no problem of you dying of old age before the century runs out, as my magic will sustain your body for as long as I wish it." I still gaped at her. "Well, is there a problem?"

"Er. . . No!" I shouted before wincing at the loudness of my voice. I had so many questions running through my head I was starting to get a headache. "Your name is familiar, who are you?" I asked.

"I am Hecate, the Goddess of many things. These include magic, witchcraft and necromancy."

"But how were you locked up inside my head in the first place?"

She huffed and sat down in one of the chairs. "That bastard Chronos put me here." she seemed pretty angry about this.

"Who?" I asked, completely confused again. "And how?"

"He is also referred to as Aeon or Father Time if you will. As to how, he took advantage of the time ritual you used and used your magic to put me in here. I can't break free, as your magic in the form of a cage is too powerful, and you can't set me free as it would kill you."

"But I thought I already did set you free?"

She scoffed. "You think I couldn't get out of that puny thing on my own? I just had to see if you were susceptible to my call. Which you are by the way. Don't worry, that just means you can control my power safely. Anyone who can't, would have been repulsed by what I did." She smiled at me.

"But what about what I did in the cave on Ngesebus?"

"Oh that wasn't you honey. I couldn't just let you die, so I did what I could to ensure we both survived, which is why you couldn't replicate the feat."

"Oh, okay then. Then what about the knife, the poem?"

"The note was never in the sheath, and the runes weren't real. I just made it seem like that was the case. The flashing lights and intense pain were all in your pretty little head." she winked at me.

"If it was all a big ruse, then why did you make it so painful?" I asked while glaring at her.

"How else was I supposed to make you pass out?"

"Oh I don't know. How about doing something from in here like temporarily cut of my nervous system?"

"Trust me darling, that wouldn't have made you pass out, just drop like a sack of them potatoes you humans like so much, you would have been lying there twitching. And although that mental picture is rather funny, it does seem a little counter productive." she stood up and started exploring the room, swiping he finger across the table surface and staring at it. "It's a little unkempt in here is it not?"

I looked around the dusty room with the memory orbs floating any which way they like and the furniture overturned minus the stuff in the middle. "What did you expect; I haven't been able to access this place with no magic. And you're the one who's been in here for six years. You could have kept it tidy for me."

"Details." she shrugged it off as she opened the door allowing the thousands of memories to pour into the hallway and navigate there way out of the house. "Whoops."

I rubbed the bridge if my nose with my thumb and forefinger as she skipped out of the room. I hurried to keep up as she led me to the middle of the quidditch pitch and sat down on the dead grass.

"Now, to accept my magic, all you need to do is open yourself up to me. I'll then start to feed some of my magic into your depleted core." she looked up to see me staring at her sceptically. "Come on, it's not like your ever going to refuse magic. You've been without it for too long." I couldn't deny the truth in her words, so I sat down opposite her and she grabbed my rough hands in her soft ones. "Just open yourself up to me, I can't harm you now."

So I did, and it felt amazing. As soon as she started, I could feel her power seeping into me. I was like a man dying of thirst taking a large gulp of water, or a bird being able to fly again after breaking a wing. A large weight was lifted of my shoulders, and I felt free.

AN: I've uploaded these first six chapters pretty quickly, mainly because I had already written most of it. The next chapters will just come as I finish them.


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